Always
by King Oz
Summary: TYL - Gokudera has to deal with his personal demons after the funeral of his boss. Goku-centric, Completed


**Title**: Always  
**Rating**: PG  
**Warnings**: This is TYL Gokudera... so Tsuna is dead. (sorry if this spoiled anything for people)  
**Word Count**: 800 (give or take a couple) 

He didn't want to be there. Truthfully, though, he didn't want to be anywhere, but even anywhere would be better than visiting his first friend in the forest like this.

Standing by the blank headstone that hadn't been carved yet, he stared into the deep hole where the coffin would be lowered after the viewing period, trying to figure out how he'd gotten to that point. It was as if, in the haze he had spent the last week in, he had been standing still while the rest of the world moved on. It was only natural then that he gravitated to a place that wanted to do the same.

He stared straight into the row of trees, letting his mind go blank. Even time seemed to stop in the small clearing in the back of the cemetery, until Yamamoto came up behind him after a few minutes (hours?) and cleared his throat politely.

"You're going to catch a cold, standing in the rain like this." His voice was quiet, but strong enough to carry through the drops of rain that pelted his shoulders. Gokudera lifted his head and looked around as though the rain only became real to him when someone else pointed out its existence.

"Yesterday was a beautiful day, wasn't it?" He could almost hear the frown cloud over the swordsman's face.

"Hayato, don't do this."

"This is much more suitable weather for a fu-" He could feel hot tears come to his eyes at the hitch in his breath and the uncharacteristic crack in his voice. He just couldn't bring himself to say the word and bring this reality crashing down around him. As long as he kept from saying anything aloud, it would remain frozen like a dream inside of him. Maybe it was one of Rokudou Mukuro's illusions that only became real when you started believing in them.

"Hayato…" Yamamoto's voice trailed off as he moved closer, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder, nodding. "I don't think anyone wanted to see the sunlight yesterday, not even Ryohei." It was like he knew Gokudera needed him to play along with his avoidance for just a little longer.

"I don't know how I'm going to keep the family together now." Yamamoto turned his head to study him for a moment, seeming unfazed by the cold unforgiving downpour that fell around them.

"You're not alone," he said. "You are not the only guardian, so don't start claiming the weight of the world all to yourself just yet." Gokudera couldn't help the soft laugh that came out sounding more like a sob than anything else.

"I just… need a minute." He took a deep breath, gathering his courage together. Yamamoto nodded.

"I'll give you five, but then I'm dragging you back to the manor, whether you're done or not." With barely the sound of a footstep he turned and walked away, back towards the parking lot, leaving Gokudera alone with his thoughts once more.

He knelt beside the unmarked gravestone, running a palm over its slick marble surface and sighed, unable to avoid thoughts of the name about to be carved into it. Set in stone.

"What am I supposed to do now?" He asked softly, turning his head to the dark sky, closing his eyes to the softer rain. "I don't know how to be strong for the others. I'm so lost and confused. How do I pick myself up after losing my best friend? I tried. I thought this time I could be stronger. I wanted to give my life to protect all the ones I love and instead…" A soft growl escaped his lips and lightning fast, his fist took aim at the marble. The effect was quick and painful. A small corner of the headstone chipped off, barely noticeable, disappearing into the grass underneath it, while his knuckles came away bloody and broken in three places.

"Why am I so weak?" he snarled to himself, turning his attention back to the heavens. "I can't even crack the god damned marble!" Even in his grief, the words sounded stupid to him. "Was I a disappointment to you? Do you regret dying so young? I've had so many questions over the years that I was too young to ask you when you were still alive. I took for granted our time together, thinking there was no way you could ever end up under a pile of dirt and grass."

The rain was just a sprinkle of light drops when he turned his face upwards once more and opened his eyes.

"Did I ever make you proud, mom?" he whispered to the sky, closing his eyes as the clouds parted in their answer and a gentle ray of light danced across his cheek like a soft caress.

_Always, Hayato. _


End file.
